Chapter 36 - Winter Flowers

  Nothing moved for an entire eternity. That’s what it felt like for everyone involved, though it really only lasted for nine seconds.

  Elania stood in the doorway, frozen mid-sentence. White hair that fell past her shoulders, pointed ears that marked her elven heritage, and the face Daniel somehow remembered perfectly despite never having seen it with his own eyes.

  She was exactly as beautiful as his memories claimed, but also more real than any memory could capture. The slight widening of her amethyst eyes, the way her breath caught, the almost imperceptible tremor that ran through her entire body as her mind worked to process what she was seeing.

  It's her. It's really her.

  Daniel fared no better. The emotions were impossible to suppress, coursing through him like nothing he had ever felt before.

  He had never believed in love at first sight, and while this could hardly be counted due to his shared memories, that's what it felt like. Like his heart suddenly burst into existence, putting any crush or romantic feelings he had felt before to shame. This was recognition on a soul-deep level.

  Elania's lips moved, trembling as she forced words past the overwhelming emotion choking her throat.

  "You…"

  So drenched in emotion was her voice, she could barely speak. The word carried everything—longing and hatred, relief and pain, love twisted into something that hurt to hear.

  An artwork of emotions, painted in the most vivid of colors.

  "...Yeah," Daniel managed to respond, nodding his head ever so slightly. His own voice came out rough, thick with emotion he couldn't quite name.

  She already knew he wasn't some imposter, otherwise she would have denied him entirely, attacked without hesitation, refused to acknowledge the possibility. But he still wanted to say it out loud, to make it real.

  It's me. I'm here. I came back.

  Elania stood frozen for another second, then she collected her mana, releasing everyone from the suppression.

  Still, no one dared to move. The frozen archmages, the bound patriarch, even Felicia—all of them were like props to a historic scene, not daring to interrupt the spotlight.

  Her arm moved to the sword on her hip, and her breathing quickened as she blinked away the tears forming in her eyes. The blade sang as it left its sheath, a clear, beautiful note that rang through the silent room.

  "...Defend yourself."

  That was all she said before bursting into action.

  Speed, incomparable to anything Daniel had seen before, but still barely trackable in his mind. She moved like lightning, crossing the distance between them in less than a heartbeat.

  Her blade swung toward the side of his neck, enhanced by more mana than any blade should be able to handle without shattering.

  Daniel didn't move. Didn't activate his magic, didn't raise a barrier, didn't even flinch.

  This is fine.

  The blade bit into his skin, drawing blood that ran warm down his neck. Then it stopped. Just shy of the killing blow, trembling against his throat.

  The trembling wasn't from weakness. It was from the sheer effort of holding back, of stopping a strike that had been meant to kill, of fighting against a thousand years of pain and anger that demanded release.

  Tears had formed in her eyes, and the guilt crashed over him like a wave. He was despicable, outright horrible for what he'd forced her through. For the choice he'd made, for leaving her behind to carry the weight of his absence for a millennium.

  If she wanted him dead, he deserved it. She deserved to have that choice.

  "I said defend yourself!" Her voice cracked on the words, tears streaming freely now. The blade pressed harder, trembling. "Fight back, you bastard! You don't get to just—"

  “Please, don’t hurt him!” Felicia yelled in desperation, cutting through the moment like a knife. She had leaned over the table between them, finally able to move again.

  Elania's attention darted to her in anger, furious that someone dared interrupt this moment. But then recognition flashed in her eyes. “Felicia? What…?”

  The surprise on Felicia's face was clear—Elania knew her name?

  But there was no time to process that, no time to wonder how or why. The blade was still pressed against Daniel's throat, still drawing blood that was beginning to soak into his collar.

  Daniel's hand moved carefully, finding hers where it gripped the sword. His fingers wrapped around her knuckles—not forcing, just touching.

  Their eyes met, and her hand trembled harder. The blade dropped slightly, no longer pressed against his throat with killing intent, though she didn't lower it completely.

  "I'm sorry, Elle."

  Elania flinched at the nickname. No one had called her that in a thousand years.

  "For everything. For being so selfish."

  Her expressions went through so many emotions, from rage to sorrow, resignation to calm. “...What do I even say to that, Art? It’s been hundreds of years since I forgot the words I would say to you if you returned."

  Her voice was barely audible, filled with exhaustion and grief. "I thought I had accepted your sacrifice. I thought the wounds had healed…"

  She dropped the blade, letting it clatter against the soft carpet with a dull thud. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked, and her face contorted in sadness.

  "How dare you come back, after everything—" Her quiet voice broke entirely, cracking into something that was almost a sob. "How dare you."

  Daniel didn't know how to respond. Words felt useless, too inadequate for this moment. He only felt guilt, and an intense desire to embrace her, to comfort her.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  So he did.

  He let go of her hand, reaching over her shoulder and pulling her head gently into his embrace. She almost resisted, but then slowly let him guide her close.

  For all the power she held, and all the respect and awe people had for her, now she seemed like such a fragile thing. She shivered in his arms, with both adrenaline and shock coursing through her, making her tremble like a leaf in the wind.

  Then her dam burst, and she started sobbing against his chest.

  The sounds were raw, stripped of any dignity or control. A millennium of grief finding release, of emotions too long suppressed finally breaking free.

  Her white hair was colored by the blood slowly seeping from his neck. It smelled of winter flowers—exactly as he remembered.

  Around them, the room remained deathly silent. Even Erodin had stopped struggling against his bonds. They bore witness to a historic event far beyond themselves, and did not dare interfere.

  All except Felicia.

  She walked forward, past the broken barrier, past the two kneeling archmages and her chained grandfather. Eventually she stood beside them, close enough to hear Elania's sobs, close enough to see Daniel's blood. In her hand she held a white strip of cloth, torn from somewhere—a dress stored in her index, most likely.

  “You… need to stop the bleeding, Danny.”

  …Yeah. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling light-headed.

  The blood loss was starting to affect him, making the world seem slightly distant and unreal. It could just as easily be the adrenaline and the absolute pummeling of emotions, but best to be on the safe side.

  Elania pulled back slightly, just enough to turn her head toward Felicia. Her eyes were red and swollen, and tears were still streaming down her face. Then she nodded weakly, letting Felicia get to his neck.

  Felicia wasted no time, pulling the cloth around Daniel's neck a few times, making sure it sat tightly against the cut, then tied a small knot. It would do for now.

  “Thank you, Fillie,” Daniel said softly. He could have done it himself, stitching it shut with a thread of gold light, but this felt right somehow.

  Felicia kept her attention on Elania for a moment longer, her mana-sight tracing between them. Then she stepped back, recognizing this moment wasn't hers to interrupt.

  Elania had managed to collect herself a bit in the silence. She turned back to Daniel, and her hand found his chest, curling her fingers around his shirt like he might disappear if she let go.

  "I… don't have much time here."

  What? What could be more important than—

  No, it wasn't a choice. Daniel's mind caught up with the implications. She had arrived here in seconds, presumably from somewhere far away. It was only a temporary measure, in case of emergencies.

  "How long?" Daniel asked quietly, understanding already settling in his gut. "How long do you have?"

  Elania's expression twisted. "Minutes, maybe. The formation is already pulling me back."

  "No." The word came out sharper than Daniel intended. "We just—I just got you back."

  "And I will return," Elania said, moving her hands to frame his face. Her palms were warm against his cheeks, gentle despite the intensity in her eyes. "Properly this time, not dragged here by magic. But right now, I need—"

  Her voice broke again. She pressed her forehead against his, eyes squeezed shut, and he could feel fresh tears sliding down to where their skin touched.

  "I need to know this is real. That you're real. Tell me something only you would know. Please."

  Daniel felt a slight guilt creeping up his back. If he had the time, he would tell her everything. Absolutely everything—about dying, about waking up here, about being Daniel and Artorias at once, about all the confusion and wonder and strangeness of this second chance at life.

  But it would have to wait, for now.

  "...This is the second time you've greeted me by cutting my neck."

  She let out a sound—half laugh, half sob. A smile crossed her tear-soaked face, but disappeared just as quickly. "More."

  “Your favorite star is the brave little one next to the celestial star.”

  Another smile, lasting longer this time. Her fingers tightened against his face, as if she could pull the memories from him through touch. "...One more."

  She’s enjoying this.

  Despite everything, despite the tears and the blood and the desperate time limit, there was something almost playful in her voice, savoring proof that he was real.

  “You’re too fond of trees.”

  Her eyes opened, staring into his, and a slight blush colored her tear-stained cheeks. Whatever memory that called up, it was clearly intimate. “...That’s enough.”

  “I figured the tree in the dome was chosen by you?”

  “...No. It was planted by your sister.”

  “Oh…”

  A thousand year old tree planted by the ancestor watching over the family. No wonder it was placed in such a central spot.

  Lyra did love gardening… And speaking of which.

  “Thanks for taking care of the house.”

  “I was the only one who could.”

  “Thanks for protecting her family.”

  “They certainly needed it.”

  “Thanks for staying by her side… when I couldn’t.”

  "She forgave you for that long ago." Elania's voice softened, taking on a different quality.

  “Like you thought you did?”

  Her hands slid down to his shoulders, flinching as she touched the cloth covering his wound. "...She knew her own heart better than I know mine. And my heart just started beating again today, so how could I have known?"

  A thousand years of telling herself she'd moved on, that she'd accepted it, that she was fine—all of it proven false in nine seconds.

  Daniel felt his heart clench. He had never realized how much these two meant to each other.

  He had written them, played out their romantic arc, given them time to fall deeply in love, crafted their relationship with care and attention, but… These emotions were so intense, in ways he had never imagined.

  Words on a page could never capture this. The way she looked at him, the way her breath caught, the way she trembled—this was real in a way his writing had never been. And Elania seemed to feel the exact same way.

  Even after a thousand years.

  "Thanks for waiting for me."

  “It’s only half my life. I’ll forgive you if you give me the rest of yours.”

  Daniel could feel her straining now as the tether was reaching its limit. Mana was flowing out of her faster, but somehow going nowhere—being pulled to wherever the formation's anchor sat.

  “That’s a scary way of proposing, but—”

  "What?! No, not—that's not what I…" Her face flushed deeper, spreading down her neck. Despite everything, she could still be flustered.

  Daniel laughed, but it quickly died as he saw her body start to glow with mana. He grabbed her face, looking deeply into her eyes. “I’m staying at the academy, so meet me there when you return, okay?”

  Her tears had returned, but now she was smiling instead of frowning. A real smile, genuine and warm despite the wet tracks on her cheeks. "...Okay. I'll be back as soon as possible!"

  "I know you will. We'll talk properly then."

  Her glow had turned too bright to look at directly now, forcing Daniel to avert his eyes. Then with a flash of mana, she was gone.

  Daniel's hands fell to his sides, then he stood there in silence, taking in all the emotions he was feeling. It was overwhelming—joy and grief, relief and longing, love and loss all tangled together into something beyond words.

  It made him feel more alive than anything he’d ever experienced. This world he'd written felt so colorful and warm, so real in ways Earth never had been.

  Now he knew; he would not return if given the chance.

  Felicia had already anchored him here, but now he was certain. This was home. This was where the people were.

  I’m becoming more Artorias for every moment I stay here.

  No, I already am, both Artorias and Daniel. It’s just that I only realize it when those emotions are given reason to burst forth.

  It was a liberating thought, even if it meant letting his identity as Daniel fade a little more. Or perhaps, instead of letting one fade, they were strengthening each other.

  It would at least let him feel less guilt about using Artorias’ identity.

  Felicia hugged Daniel from his side, pulling him out of his reverie. Her arms wrapped around his waist, resting her head against his shoulder. He was still in a room full of powerful people, and there were still things to be done.

  But they would be easier now. He felt more present now than he ever did before, like a faint fog had finally lifted, or a part of him had finally woken up.

  Now I just need to fix this family.